


Anemone

by centaurslegs



Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF
Genre: Anal Sex, Boys In Love, Little Women Promo, M/M, PWP, Paris Premiere, Secret Relationship, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-16
Updated: 2019-12-16
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:41:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21819085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/centaurslegs/pseuds/centaurslegs
Summary: I am aware of everything – his breathing, his heartbeat, his hands caressing my hair and my face. When he wipes off a tear, I realize that I am crying this whole time. I am holding onto him so tight as if my subconsciousness thought that he might evaporate right this second.Armie meets Timmy in his hotel room before his premiere in Paris.
Relationships: Timothée Chalamet/Armie Hammer
Comments: 30
Kudos: 98





	Anemone

_Gonna sneak in real quick, almost there…_

That’s all the massage says and I’m starting to get as anxious as ever. I texted Florence a couple of minutes ago, asking her how she is holding up. She replied back with a goofy photo of herself with double chin while she was getting her hair done. That calmed me down a little. I pace around the room, I sit on the bed, then I get up abruptly. I need to move, I need to do something to calm my littered nerves. I aim to the small lounge in my room because I know that the hotel has provided us each a small complimentary gift consisting of fruit, but it’s the bottle of wine that came with it I go for.

I uncork it with shaky hands and drink straight from the bottle. The bittersweet liquid slides down my throat, making me pleasantly warm but my heart beats still as fast. The adrenaline and strong rush of excitement is joggling through my body when I think about the fact that he is probably a few minutes away from my hotel, from my room. _From me_. Nobody knows about this, not even Brian, not even my closest friends I tell everything to, except…

I even thought he was joking when he said that he is catching a red-eye to Paris yesterday, wanting to console me when I’d almost had an emotional outburst in front of all those people when they’d made me watch a clip of our movie. I didn’t expect him to text me this morning that he was going to be there in a couple of hours and try to squeeze in before my premiere. That was when it got real and I realized that he would get to me even over dead bodies. And despite everything I had to admit that the way things are arranged between him and Elizabeth is impressive in a very strange sense of a word. 

A loud knock on the door startles me and I almost drop the bottle. Like in a spell, I am dragged towards the door and when I open it and see him I gasp, tears instantly blurring my vision. Even more so when the door shuts quietly and I’m brought to his embrace, pressing my face into _his_ grey sweater that smells like a smoke that was once _mine_ , and now is _his_ again. His clothes are cold especially the very light jacket he is wearing, when I clench it in my fists on his back I feel that it’s a little wet.

I am aware of everything – his breathing, his heartbeat, his hands caressing my hair and my face. When he wipes off a tear, I realize that I am crying this whole time. I am holding onto him so tight as if my subconsciousness thought that he might evaporate right this second. Then I look at him. I haven’t seen him since London and a lot has changed – his ridiculous mustache is gone, his hair is gone and he feels so frail in my arms, too. My love. _Be with me darling, early and late._

“I can’t believe you are really here. I can’t… I can’t,” I repeat like a broken record to which he just squeezes my body tighter, reassuring me that he is. _He is_. And I can’t avert my eyes from him once I see his face. He looks so unbelievably handsome, regardless of the tiredness flashing on his face and slight distress 

“I’m so happy to see you. I’m sorry I couldn’t come sooner, but the traffic was terrible, it started raining and– “ I silence him with a kiss, feeling his whole body relaxing as well as mine. I finally feel at ease now after the torturing minutes of waiting and stressing out – _what if he won’t make it, what if someone stops him, or recognizes him._ Nothing of that sort seems to matter right now to him which also makes me a little less worried. 

“That’s fine, I mean, you came and I just… wow, Armie, I can’t believe you’d do this for me.” He shakes his head and chuckles slightly at my commentary. He is crazy, traveling to another side of the world while in a few days we could have seen each other in LA. But at the same time, I can’t imagine spending one more second without his presence anymore. 

I take his jacket off and push him towards the bedroom, where he throws his backpack on top of the armchair and flops onto my bed with a sigh. His eyes flutter shut, his breathing gets slower, but I know that he is still up and fully functioning. 

“Would you like something to eat? Or to drink? I have a bit of wine here, I could pour us some if you want,” I suggest while taking off his shoes to make him more comfortable. He just hums approvingly and then mumbles a quiet: “Yeah that sounds good. Bring what you got,” peaking at me with half-lidded eyes.

I feel awful when I see him exhausted like that, barely keeping them open. I myself am still a bit groggy from the jetlag. The premiere is not supposed to be sooner than in two more hours so that gives us a little extra time to spend together. I leave Armie rest behind me while I make my way towards the living room and grab the wine I opened a while ago along with two glasses 

He hasn’t moved an inch but squints at me when I walk in. I fill both of the glasses to the half, gently placing the bottle on the table. Part of me really doesn’t want to disturb his well-deserved relax. He looks so comfortable on that bed, probably not even an apocalypse would bring him into attention, but I know what might.

When I make sure his eyes are closed again, I start removing my clothes – black t-shirt I throw carelessly on the ground as well as my pants and boxers that I randomly shackle from each leg with my feet together with socks somewhere. In the end, I lay myself completely bare in front of him, yet he doesn’t even have an idea. That is until I take the wine glasses and walk over to him, stopping at his feet. I feel so exposed and ridiculous, but at the same time it excites me to no end and I start shivering. 

“Your wine, sir.” The line itself makes me cringe a little internally. He opens his eyes slightly until he realizes what is in front of him and stirs awake from his drowsiness, sitting up swiftly. From his gaze only I feel myself harden instantly, my cock twitches under the hard look he is giving me.

I’m still holding out my hand with the glass for him and he eventually takes it, taking a short sip before putting it down onto the floor. He holds my hand, pulls me closer to him between his spread out legs and takes my glass away from me, putting it next to his. Both of his hands rest on my hips and I have to bite my lip to suppress the embarrassing whine I was about to let out.

I love when he is touching me so delicately like this. I find it so vulnerable yet so erotic, even more when we are like this – me, giving myself to him, because I want to belong to him again and _only_ him. 

He maps my whole body as if contemplating his future actions and it’s getting so intense already that I shake even more violently. 

“Are you okay, you are trembling like an aspen leaf,” he says chuckling watching my premature reaction to his touch.

Instead of a reply, I just nod once and then proceed to take off his clothes. I don’t care at all where I throw them, I just want to have him naked as soon as possible. His cock is already hard when I take a first look at it and I just want to wrap my mouth around it in this instant, but his hand on the back of my neck stops me when he brings me to a fierce kiss.

It’s so rough, full of tongue, teeth, and saliva, but so slow that I swoon into his body and he has to hold me. His hands are everywhere, roaming down my back, grabbing my ass and squeezing it harshly while I hold on tight around his neck because otherwise, I would probably fall. It feels almost as if I gave all the control over my own body to him. He knows what to do with it, he always does. 

Grabbing the back of my thighs he puts me on top of his lap, never breaking the kiss. I sob into his mouth when our slick cocks brush against each other which immediately sends a signal into my head to grab them both and stroke us together. And I aim to do just that until one of his hands doesn’t stop me before I can make even the vaguest contact. He forces my arm behind my back and keeps it there and I let him. God, _yes_ , I’d let him do anything to me right now.

His tongue brushes against mine repeatedly in both our mouths, he even lets me lead the kiss, to which I happily comply, because I know he loves when I take charge in it. But I soon want more, and he does too, but he also loves teasing me to the point when I’m desperate and fallen apart so he can put me together. However, as always, we sadly don’t have much time this time either.

So I rebel against his grip and start grinding against his crotch – I feel his stiff wet cock and drawn up balls against me and it just feels too delicious to even think of something else at this moment. His other hand squeezes my arm and he bites onto my lower lip not exactly lightly which makes me wince a little and I pull back. I don’t want any suspicious eyes on me tonight. I’m going to draw too much attention anyway thanks to what I’m wearing. I frown at him so he understands he can’t do that. Not tonight that is. He just growls under his breath and starts paying attention to my nipples instead. 

“Fucking hell–“ I squeal when the first thing he does is biting on them. The tiredness is rousing on me again and I always feel like I was coming down with flu, which makes my body two times as sensitive to everything.

And I think he knows because he keeps doing it again and again and he soothes the peaked nubs with his tongue right after. By now I’m tensed like a wire, in a continuous rapture from what he is doing to me. I drape my nails against his shoulder blades, keeping myself at least a little together even after he starts sucking them in between his teeth.

That is when I choke a howl like a dying man and squirm on his lap so violently it makes us both fall on the carped covered floor with a loud thud. Neither of us spares a flinch. He even manages to drag the quilt down with him and at the same time he never parts from my chest. 

He is lying on me now and I bring his face to mine once again, latching on his lips, starving for his taste. He takes a hold of both of my wrists above my head and I think of him tying me up to his mercy like he’s done already before. It was actually here in Paris, the first time he’d introduced me to _that_ side of him two years ago. We may not be the same people anymore, but the love we have for each other remained, if not grew even stronger than it was back then. 

Suddenly he starts getting up and I panic because I was too swallowed up in my own head to pay attention to anything else. I take a hold of his forearm, stopping him in his tracks. “Where are you going?” I ask almost desperately. 

“Where do you have lube?” he answers with another question and I admit that I don’t have any. His hand combs through my hair and tugs a little at the ends, burying his face into my neck. “Fuck, I don’t want to hurt you,” it is his turn to sound desperate now as he mumbles from under my chin. And I want to assure him that he absolutely won’t hurt me, because he could never hurt me.

“You won’t, I promise.” I scratch his shaved scalp gently for a short while until I decide to take his hand to my face and put his fore and middle finger into my mouth at once. When I start sucking on them, coating them in saliva, he decides to watch me, and although it might look a little awkward, I don’t feel ashamed in the slightest. Not even when I gently push him off me to draw my legs up to my chest, revealing myself the way only he has seen me in. Nevertheless, I still feel naked to the bone under his piercing lustful look. 

I let his fingers fall out of my mouth and then without any other word I lead the same hand to my hole. He shakes his head, huffing a pained moan. “You are gonna fucking kill me, Tim,” is all he says before he positions himself where I want him. I hold my legs up for him, feeling how hot my cheeks are now that I wait for what happens next with held breath. 

He circles my hole lightly with his fingers that he had to slicken up a little bit more. I expect him to push inside, physically prepared for it, but I just feel the warm plush of his tongue instead. All air is knocked out of my body the second he does that and it doesn’t take long before he tries to breach inside.

I try to relax for him but I’m too keyed up to do so. He caresses my thigs, my ass-cheeks to loosen me up a bit and in the end, it does the trick. I hear him making all those wet noises, but I need to concentrate not to shoot off too soon, so I don’t even dare to open my legs and look down. Eventually, he adds his fingers and is done at the third after a long while of me squirming and whining about being ready.

Gently he opens my legs and without any further hesitation slides in halfway. I gasp, scrunch my face in a pained grimace and soon after I’m having my face peppered with smooches all over. He stays like that for a while until I press my heels into the two dimples on his ass. He is fucking me with such finesse and rigor at first, hitting that spot inside of me with almost every thrust.

I hold onto him for dear life, otherwise, I would probably faint from the overwhelming sensation. His face is pressed into my neck also and I hear him breathing heavily, suspecting that the end is very close and he is not the only one. I quickly turn us over on the last minute, managing to do so without pulling out so I can resume riding him while he is clasping onto my hips so hard it makes me hiss.

I angle myself to the back, supporting with my hands on his slippery thighs. The drag is delicious and so is the stretch that I am abided by to accommodate him inside me. 

“That’s it, Timmy, make yourself come on my cock,” he says breathily and it almost tips me over. “When you come back to the hotel, I will tie you up to this bed and edge you until–“ He doesn’t even have a chance to tell me his plans when I’m already muffling a particularly loud orgasm into my hand. I soon find out that I came totally untouched which is apparently enough for him release inside of me. 

It’s rather a while we lie tangled into each other on the ground. I hold him with his head resting on top of my chest, my thumb is drawing circles on his cheeks the other one softly tracing every inch of his feverish skin until we both calm down a little. I raise my head to check the clock and am hit by the numbers on the display. The premiere is in an hour and I look literally fucked out. I slap his ass slightly to move, but he only groans in response and nuzzles even closer to me. 

“But I’m so comfortableeeeee…” he sulks like a small kid but I manage to crawl from under his weight. 

We take showers separately to avoid any further incidents that would include me being late again for the screening. By the time I get out he is snuggled under the covers in my bed, only his tired eyes are peeking out, but even like that he would easily make me drop down to my knees.

It takes every ounce of my leftover strong will to not just walk over to him and rip those cover off, revealing his most likely naked body. So I just try very hard not to think about it and the fact that I will find him like this in a few hours when I come back. I think of it as a motivation. 

His reaction to my tonight’s attire is more amusing than anything else. I tried to keep it a secret for him until the very last moment until I’d send him a probably very lewd picture in it. But this is even better, for he is the first one to see it. He gasps and runs a hand across his face. I think he is exaggerating a little bit, but I’m not going to lie that I didn’t like this kind of muted praise. 

“You like?” I ask pompously. 

“You little shit, what do you think?” he almost squeals and sits down on the edge of the bed once again. I was right, he is naked and very much not helping me to stay put. I feel my cheeks and ears flush and I try to look anywhere but.

He pulls me closer to him and touches the ropes that are hanging from the inside of my magenta suit. “You look fucking edible right now. But when do you not? Perfect. Perfect,” he repeats. I lean down and give him one last kiss on the lips that drags for a little too long. 

“Go and wipe their eyes, baby. I will be right here when you come back,” he assures me. Handing me my phone and patting my butt jokingly he sends me off to the cold Parisian night. I‘m about to post something cheesy on my Instagram story when I suddenly notice that there is one already.

It’s a video from my bed with Eiffel Tower in the take with the premiere details and for a second I think my soul left my body when I see a body shifting on the bed - Armie. 

**Author's Note:**

> purely fictional


End file.
